


It’s Not Fair

by buttaerfly



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Arguing, Chanyeol needs a hug, Child Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Father/Son Incest, Gaslighting, Gen, Incest, M/M, Romance, Seriously avoid chapter 3!!!!, Sexual Abuse, graphic rape scene, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-01-18 20:30:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12395667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttaerfly/pseuds/buttaerfly
Summary: “I’m not letting you go back to him!”“Why does it matter?” Chanyeol raised his voice for the first time in probably years, and he was surprised how loud it could be."I care."





	1. Chapter 1

Chanyeol looked at the broken pieces of porcelain on the kitchen floor, shattered in a million pieces. Tears welled up in his eyes before he even received his punishment.

“Who do you think you are to throw my dishes on the floor like that?” His father stood in front of him on the farther side of the kitchen. The elder man had his cane in one hand, leaning on it as he stared at the hunched figure of his son. He only brought wooden cane out when Chanyeol was ‘bad,’ not for any other reason. He knew this all by now, it was like clockwork.

Chanyeol hadn’t thrown it, the plate had slipped from his wet hands like soap, but there was no use. His father wouldn’t listen to him, and probably hit him more for talking back. Chanyeol took a deep breath through his nose, throat burning from the uncomfortable lump forming in there from crying. It would be over with quicker if he played along. Chanyeol didn’t care about what his father said to him anymore, it was all the same comments he had heard before, all he wanted was to just be in his room right now. He felt do embarrassed to be kneeling on the floor like a dog.

“I’m no one.. Sir.” Chanyeol answered the way his father wanted him to, uplifting the elder while degrading himself.

“Glad you have the slightest bit of self-awareness.” His father began to move closer to him, and he knew what was coming. Chanyeol pulled his simple cotton shirt over his head and down his arms, presenting his back to the man. It was already so scarred from the other beatings, but they never stopped. His father always found a reason to hurt him. The man tutted at the sight of welts he had given the boy yesterday, “Such a stupid boy.”

Chanyeol breathed in through his nose, preparing himself for the first blow. The wood came down on the middle of his back, knocking the breath out of him, in a disgustingly loud smack. And it kept happening again and again, until his father felt like his son had properly atoned for his sins of dropping a plate.

“Be thankful it was only one.” His father dropped the cane somewhere on the counter and turned, yanking Chanyeol up by his hair, “What do you say?”

“I’ll do better, sir.” His father's hands left him as soon as they were on him, walking away. Chanyeol didn’t even wait for his father to leave the room before he dashed up the stairs to his room. Behind the closed door of his room, Chanyeol let himself cry. The stinging pain of the cane only added to how much living felt at the moment. Everywhere he turned, he did something wrong. He was a stupid boy, he couldn’t even wash the dishes without messing it up.

Chanyeol hid his face in his hands, thinking and heaving sobs that wracked his body. This couldn’t possibly be the end, it never was. How many days would his father deny him meals? Will he lock him up in the closet again?

His father had an arsenal of punishments to use on the teenager, of varying degrees of severity with no correlation to what Chanyeol had actually done. Punishments seemed to be pulled out of a figurative hat, used whenever his father felt like using them. Even repeating the same act warranted a different punishment each time.

Chanyeol had lost track of how many times he had broken curfew, which was a mere 10 minutes after his school day ended, he had gotten treated differently each time. Sometimes it meant being locked in the closet in the hallway, smashed into the tiny three foot space with coats and jackets, with no room to move and even less for his growing teenage body to fit into. Other times, it meant he’d go hungry for a week, or a hand closing off his air flow until he was begging for it to stop.

His father was unpredictable, he always kept Chanyeol scared.

~

Chanyeol stared at his phone screen, contemplating what to say. He had his kakao chat with his Baekhyun open, debating whether or not to tell the teenager what had happened, in a vain attempt to seek some type of comfort. Baekhyun would give it of course, along with a million questions on why Chanyeol didn’t just leave. He hated that., but Baekhyun never let up, thinking it pestering him would draw Chanyeol farther from his father and closer to Baekhyun’s open waiting arms.

Chanyeol typed away his message, ignoring the ache in his back and the voice in his mind telling him to ask for comfort. He asked about school instead. Speaking to his friend, even on such a vanilla topic, would make him feel better. He knew it.

8:19 pm  
chanchan61: Baek  
chanchan61: Did you do jungs hw?

 

Chanyeol set his phone on his desk, flipping through worksheets and notes, checking his schoolwork. It was already complete, but he liked to make sure.

_Apo!_

The baby-ish tone shocked him, so focused on organizing himself. Chanyeol took his phone in his hand, unlocking the device quickly to check what his friend has replied with.

8:20 pm  
byunbaek: shit  
byunbaek: jung assigned homework?  
chanchan61: ya  
chanchan61: dimensional analysis  
chanchan61: i have the answers dw

Chanyeol fished through his papers, pulling out the specified worksheet, wasting no time to take photos of his answers and sending them. His answers we’re always correct, because he didn’t have much to do around the house besides studying. His father seemed to occupy the living room 24 hours a day, Chanyeol kept himself in his room most of the time.

chanchan61: photo  
chanchan61: photo  
byunbaek: i owe you my life  
byunbaek: i’ll bring a couple extra rolls of kimbap for you <3

Chanyeol giggled at the small emoticon at the end of the response.

chanchan61: study hard :3

He locked his phone after that, plugging it into the charge and changing into his night clothes, which consisted simply of his boxers and the softest clean t-shirt he could find.

As Chanyeol laid down for bed, he shifted continually for ten whole minutes, trying to find the most comfortable position for his injured back. Chanyeol finally settled on his stomach, exposing his back to the open air, allowing himself to finally let himself escape the world, into his dreams. In his dreams everything was fine. He didn’t have a father that beat on him.. In fact, he had a mother in his dreams.

Years ago, when Chanyeol was a small child he did have a mother. Baekhyun’s mother and his were friends, so they went over to the Byun’s house frequently. At the time, his father was active duty in the Korean army, a highly respected senior enlisted soldier, in command of many other soldiers below him. Chanyeol was never told the whole story of why his father was no longer in the military, but he was so young at the time when it happened. Thinking about it now, Chanyeol only remembers one day when his father had come home from work, and unleashed his anger on Chanyeol and his mother.

His father was never particularly loving, but he didn’t treat his family terribly the way he does now. He worked so much and for so long, that he only came around for evening meal times and weekends, always too tired to truly bond with his toddler son. But that day, when he had gotten discharged from the military, he turned into a demon and never went back. His mother skipped out on the family after that one instance, leaving her son in the hands of a madman.

~

The uncomfortable burn that accompanied any surface simply touching Chanyeol’s back carried onto the next day, making the teenager’s school day hell. The gap between his desk was too narrow, not allowing him to sit anyway that didn’t have his back pressed flush against the back of his seat. Chanyeol makes himself deal with it, rewarding himself with a few moments of relief when he took his back off of the seat. He didn’t do so often, because the class was taking a quiz and Mr. Jung watched everyone like a hawk. Anything that wasn’t was sitting straight in your seat was seen as ‘cheating.’

Chanyeol pressed on, literally and figuratively, as his back screamed for relief. He didn’t need a zero sitting in his grade book, so he tried to finish the chemistry problems in front of him. He was on the very last problem, but he couldn’t focus.

Finally, he shifted, relieving his pain for a moment.

“Chanyeol.” Mr. Jung, the chemistry teacher, called his name out suddenly. The teacher’s dark voice reminded Chanyeol of his father, with the same sound of disgust added too. Chanyeol’s head shot up obediently, “See me after class. As for everyone else, pencils down, pass your quizzes up.”

All the students did so, Mr. Jung going to each row of desks and collecting the quizzes. That damn problem remained unanswered.The bell rang shortly after, with the other students grabbing their bags and exiting as soon as possible. Chanyeol still sat in his chair, twirling his pencil in his hand.

“Chanyeol, approach my desk please.” Mr. Jung was shuffling papers on his desk, putting a paper clip around his classes papers. Chanyeol did as he was told, keeping his eyes on the pencil in his hand, “Why were you shifting so much? It couldn’t have been cheating, because you kept your eyes glued to your paper the entire time.” Mr. Jung’s voice was entirely calm and level, which Chanyeol was surprised by.

“I…” Chanyeol paused for a moment. He was speaking without even thinking of what to say, “I injured my back, so I had a bruise. In the seat, the chair digs into my back.” Chanyeol sighed, it wasn’t exactly a lie, and Mr. Jung didn’t deserve the whole truth.

Mr. Jung made a soft ‘oh,’ nodding his head, “That’s all I had to ask. You’re dismissed.”

Chanyeol gave the older man a small bow before turning and grabbing his backpack, rushing down to the courtyard to meet Baekhyun.

~

“There you are!” Baekhyun looked up from his playstation vita console in one hand and chopsticks in the other, hovering over an open plastic container of kimbap. Chanyeol set his bag on one seat opposite of Baekhyun.

“I gave you the answers, offer up.” Chanyeol waited patiently as his friend fetched two containers of kimbap, rolled by his mother.

“Beef, imitation crab.” Baekhyun held up each container respectively, showing what meat was contained in each roll. Chanyeol rubbed his hands together as the containers were shoved over to his side, wasting no time to dig into his reward with his hands. He savored each individual element of the dish. It was the first meal he’s had in a week, and he couldn’t wait to stuff himself silly.

“Dude, don’t cum over some fucking kimbap.” Baekhyun was looking on in amazement as Chanyeol stuffed slices into his mouth like no tomorrow. Baekhyun knew a little about Chanyeol’s home life, and didn’t tease him too much over it, “Oh, come over to my place after school, my dad just got me the new playstation pro. You gotta see it.”

Chanyeol nodded, “Got it.” Voice slightly muffled through the rice and meat in his mouth.

~

“Baek, honey, can you-” Mrs. Byun was in the middle of her sentence when she looked up and saw Chanyeol accompanying her son into the home, “Oh! Chanyeol. Hello, are you hungry?”

“He’s not, he ate your kimbap like a madman, he’s stuffed for another 50 years.” Baekhyun answered for him, kicking off his shoes. He padded over to the fridge in the kitchen, disappearing around the corner for a second then reappearing again, producing two pocari sweat bottles, Chanyeol’s favorite, in his hand.

“You’re a great cook Mrs. Byun.” Baekhyun was already bounding up the stairs while Chanyeol spoke to her, anxious to show off his latest console. His parents were so well off he could get the newest releases at launch, meanwhile the only times Chanyeol had his own console was when his father gave his gameboy when he was twelve years old, only for it to be smashed by the giver only a month later.

“Come on!” Baekhyun yelled from up the stairs, Chanyeol did a small wave before leaving up to Baekhyun’s room.

~

“Tell me.” Baekhyun closed the door to his room behind him, leaning up against it. It took Chanyeol a second to realize.

“What?” If he played dumb, maybe Baekhyun would give up, stop asking so many questions.

“You know.” Baekhyun kept one hand on the knob, and pointed his other hand towards Chanyeol’s abdomen, when really he meant his back. Chanyeol looked at him, trying to think of a way out.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Chanyeol’s voice was small. He didn’t like talking about this, and currently he was forced to do it. The only way out was the door, and there's no way to get Baekhyun to move from it other than giving him what he wanted to know.

“Your dad? Again?” Baekhyun clasped his index finger and thumb against the bridge of his nose, “Jesus christ ‘yeol.”

“You got your answers, move.” Chanyeol didn’t want to be there anymore. Baekhyun soured his mood.

“I’m not letting you go back to him!”

“Why does it matter?” Chanyeol raised his voice for the first time in probably years, and he was surprised how loud it could be.

“I care! How many years do you want me to sit by as he beats the shit out of you? It’s been twelve years, I can’t see you go through that any longer.” Baekhyun was dead serious, his gaze was so intense it scared Chanyeol. He had brought his hands off of the door for a moment, taking a few steps forward, in some dramatic display of how he felt.

“Watch me.” Chanyeol took Baekhyun’s moment of weakness to his advantage, squeezing past it and bounding down the stairs like his life depended on it.

“Oh!” Mrs. Byun was surprised seeing her son’s friend come down in such a rush, grabbing his shoes without even putting them on, with her son following close by, “what did you do to have him running out of here like he saw a ghost?”

“I asked him about his father.” Baekhyun didn’t expect to be yanked by the shoulders, forced to face his mother. Her face was serious and emotionless, something Baekhyun saw only rarely.

“You should know better. How many times have I told you not to do that?” Baekhyun brushed his mother’s hands off of him. They fell limply by her sides, she didn’t even try to reach out to him again.

“Oh, so I’m just supposed to sit and watch him be battered into submission by that asshole? He deserved better.”

“Leave yourself out.”

“What is wrong with you?” Baekhyun was yelling, frustrated.

Was he the only person in the world that cared about him? Baekhyun was the only one actively trying to get him out of that horrible situation Chanyeol was in, meanwhile everyone else wanted to keep him in it, even Chanyeol himself. Baekhyun stomped out of the room and up the stairs once again, sealing himself in his room for the rest of the day.

~

“The regular.” Chanyeol was standing at the cigarette counter outside the convenience store. The clerk, Kyungsoo, was halfway asleep when Chanyeol approached. He knew Kyungsoo from a few years back, they were in a music appreciation class together. Kyungsoo had since graduated, but he was always nice to Chanyeol in class, and let the underaged teen boy cigarrettes for a little extra won handed to him under the table.

Kyungsoo lazily picked out Chanyeol’s preferred pack, Raisons.

“Two.” Kyungsoo threw another pack onto the counter at the window. Chanyeol put three ten thousand won bills on the counter, stuffing the packs into his pockets, before grabbing a lighter from the edge of the window. Kyungsoo didn’t care, also placing the money in his pockets as well.

“Enjoy the cancer.” Kyungsoo waved him off.

“Thanks.”

~

Chanyeol, with cigarettes and a stolen lighter in pocket, sits in the park. He walks through the park on his way to his neighborhood from school. During the school week, when he’s trying to be ‘good’ for his father and meet curfew he doesn’t have time to look. He doesn’t take time to see how tall the trees have grown, how the petals on the flower bushes are changing the faintest of colors, or as the sun went down, the noise of the children went down as well.

He had the time now.

As he sat on a park bench, he was finally able to savor nature around him. He could look and watch and at the children playing in the park, their mothers sitting on the grass with baskets of food and drink for themselves and their children. Chanyeol smiled at the thought, caring mothers preparing their children's’ favorite food, to meet their friends. It warmed his heart that there were parents unlike his, who left their offspring's childhood undisturbed and loving.

Chanyeol wishes someone cared enough to do the same for him

~

Chanyeol sleeps on that same park bench that night. He doesn’t want to return home, because if he does- his father might never let him out again. His father was horribly controlling. He chose every class Chanyeol took, what food he ate, when he ate, everything. He hated leaving the house, but when he had an opportunity to control his son, his father gladly left. Like during when he has to re-register Chanyeol for school and choose the classes for him to take that year, he is nothing but ecstatic to do so.

Chanyeol used to hate it, desperate for some type of freedom. But all of that had been beaten out of him long ago so he no longer tried to challenge it, in fact, he began to welcome it. This control meant that he no longer had much to worry about. Having choices taken from him meant he could study harder, and for longer, which meant higher scores on tests. High marks warded his father off for a few days, so Chanyeol had peace for once every now and then. While Baekhyun stressed over what classes to take, because his parents allowed him to choose what he wanted, Chanyeol could not relate. His father was doing him a favor.

This is one of the only times Chanyeol actually likes his father. Life was hard sometimes, but with many of the major decisions already decided for him, it made it a bit easier.

Deciding where to sleep was the first choice Chanyeol had made in a while, besides which answer to choose on a quiz. He wasn’t too sure if he liked it. He was shivering in the cold, because the temperature had dropped almost ten degrees according to his phone. He was uncomfortable, at home he had a plush blanket and a nice pillow, but here he only had his bookbag and hoodie. His bookbag had textbooks and binders in it, so it wasn’t soft at all and it kept him up.

Chanyeol understands now why his father doesn’t let him make decisions. Every one he seems to make never gives a satisfactory result. When his father decides, everything is fine.

Chanyeol is such a stupid boy, just like his father says he is.

~  
Chanyeol only sleeps a few hours, to uncomfortable in his makeshift bed to sleep properly. He feels and looks like shit, given the reflection on his phone screen. He wakes up to a mountain of phone calls and text messages from Baekhyun. All the messages are just the same thing worded differently, asking Chanyeol to come back and that he was sorry. Chanyeol doesn’t care and he doesn’t want to see anybody.

Chanchan61: go to bed.  
Chanchan61: its 3am.

Chanyeol puts his phone on mute, hoping that Baekhyun will get the hint and leave him alone.


	2. 2.0

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chanyeol's secret is told.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow I'm actually writing

Baekhyun doesn’t hear or see Chanyeol for three days after their little quarrel in his house earlier in the week. Not at school, not with other friends, or anyone. Every time Baekhyun sees Chanyeol’s empty desk in classes that they share, his stomach sinks a little bit more. Baekhyun knows Chanyeol, that he’d do anything to be out of the house, but skipping school? That was something he had never heard of. The boy had had perfect attendance ever since middle school, but that was ruined in just a week.

Did Chanyeol hate him now? So much so he’d throw his good grades and records away just to get away from Baekhyun?

He felt horrible. That day, part of him told him not to mention anything at all, but he stupidly followed his gut and did it. So now he lost his best friend. He only did it so that Chanyeol would realize how cruel and unusual what his father does is but he did the opposite. Baekhyun was the only one he knew that did something like that. Even his father, the man who knows the law like he knows the back of his hand, remained complacent. Baekhyun had seen his father take on cases similar to Chanyeol’s- beaten wives, children trying to escape their parents, the occasional brutalized husband. He had persecuted and won so many cases like that, fought fiercely for justice for those who had long been denied. He had done that for people he didn’t know. But when it was someone he knew, the older man did nothing.

It made Baekhyun’s blood boil.

~

“Mr. Jung?” Baekhyun peeked his head through the the door, only to see his chemistry teacher with his dress shoes up on the desk as he read through a newspaper, “I’m surprised you’re still here.”

“Well, i am, but I will remind you that I do not have officer hours and you cannot make up any missed work.” Mr. Jung took his feet off the desk, and messed with his tie as he spoke to Baekhyun.

“It’s not about me, it’s about Chanyeol.” Baekhyun took a full step into the room, keeping his back against the wall nearest to the door.

“What about him?”

“You know how he hasn’t been at school the last three days? I’m concerned about him.” Baekhyun’s teacher cocked his head empathetically as he spoke. 

“I’m glad you’re able to trust me on this, pull up a seat and tell me more.” Baekhyun did as he was told, pulling a seat to the other side of his desk. This is the first time he’s ever been this close, and it’s a mess of papers and sticky notes, there is some answer pages scattered around, “Oh, mind the mess.”

“Okay.” Baekhyun sits there awkwardly before beginning to speak, “Do you know Chanyeol’s father?”

“I’ve had conferences with him once or twice.” Mr. Jung raises and eyebrow at the mention of a parent.

“I’ve,” Baekhyun stops himself, taking a deep breath before continuing, “I’ve know the Park family my whole life, my mother and his were close. The family is in shambles. After his father was discharged from the army, his mother took off and left Chanyeol.” Baekhyun looks down at his hands, and they’re shaking harder than ever. It’s not his story to tell but he feels trapped.

“Take your time.” Baekhyun hadn’t noticed, but Mr. Jung was writing what he said on a notepad. 

“I remember the first day I saw it.. He came to third grade with bruises all over and he still acted normally. I remember the fuss Ms. Kwon put up about it but all he wanted to do was color pages.” Baekhyun feels the tears slip down his cheeks. It feels so foreign to be saying all of this to someone that wasn’t his parents, “And it’s only gotten worse since then. His father doesn’t feed him! All he does is beat on him and drink. I’ve seen the bruises.. The cuts.. The burns. He’s over at my house all the time to escape his father.”

 

“Baekhyun.. Here.” Mr. Jung is holding out a tissue box. Baekhyun takes a few and dries his face, breathing through his tears.

“Chanyeol tells me what his father does sometimes. He father forces him into this tiny closet in their house. He’s 185 centimeters! He can barely squat in there. You want to know why he gets put in there? If Chanyeol isn’t home 10 minutes after his school day. You know how far away he lives? Two kilometers, he practically has to sprint to his home to assure that he gets out of a punishment.”

Mr. Jung doesn’t say anything, he only stares in concern and sympathy. One of his brightest students, and this is what he lives like.

“And that’s only what he tells me about. God knows what goes on in that house.” Baekhyun grips the tissues in his hand tightly, his tears of sadness turning into anger, “You know why he’s missing school right now?”  
“Why?”

“Me!” Baekhyun kicks his feet in frustration, his arms tightly wrapped around his body, “I tried to help him, I tried to convince him to get out of there and now he hates me.”

“Baekhyun, calm down. You’re helping him now.” The teacher gives him a caring look.

“I guess. I’ve got to go. Goodbye Mr. Jung.” Baekhyun gets up and starts for the door without as much as a wave.

“Oh! If you do talk to Chanyeol, tell him he can make up his work.” 

“Sure thing.”


	3. Beginning and the End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> be careful.

It’s friday when Chanyeol returns to his home, four days since he was at Baekhyun’s house. Four days he’s been shivering on the streets. He survived, cigarettes keep the hunger away for long enough that he could stretch his measly 25,000 won to last all four days. He’s in debt to Kyungsoo now because he begged for a free pack of cigarettes on wednesday, and he’s been eating only the discounted kimbap that’s a few days old from the convenience store. It’s worked out partly, but Chanyeol knows he can eat more back home- even if he has to survive a few beatings to get it. He only has 3,000 won left now, and he can only buy a juice box now before he’s broke. 

Chanyeol doesn’t know what to expect, but the house still looks the same. In the entrance the teenager can see the flickers of the television bouncy off the liquor cabinet, his father watching whatever is on. He turns his head when Chanyeol enters, and for once the gaze isn’t full of hate.

“There’s dishes that need to be done.” The gaze lingers for a moment before his father leaves him be. Chanyeol shrugs off his hoodie and gets to work, filling up the sink with the hottest it will go. The water feels nice on his hand, and he feels the coldness fade away quickly. There aren’t that many dishes, mostly glasses that stink of alcohol, and the occasional plate from when his father ate his meals. Chanyeol forces himself to focus on scrubbing the glassware crystal clear and putting them away without dropping them, pushing the thoughts of what beating will come out of his head.

Though he’s taking extra care with his chores this time, Chanyeol still finishes quickly. His father doesn’t speak another word to him, so he slips out of his clothes and into a blazing hot shower upstairs. The water is so hot that his skin begins to turn pink pretty quickly, and steam is visible, but it feels too amazing to stop. When Chanyeol turns to let the water wash over his back, it sends a chill down his spine. Such a simple pleasure like hot water was something Chanyeol missed dearly during his little stint as a homeless person.

No matter how much it hurts, or how hungry Chanyeol may get, he doesn’t want to leave this house again. It’s a little imperfect, it’s a little fucked up, but Chanyeol wants nothing more than to stay. 

~

“Chanyeol! Come down here.” His father is gracious enough to allow him a few hours to rest, but it’s not long before the part Chanyeol dreads the most is upon him. Chanyeol leaves his shirt off, it’s useless because it will be discarded eventually. His father is still sitting in the chair in front of the television, and the wooden cane is nowhere to be seen. It’s a surprise, but Chanyeol is too distracted to care. All he can think about is how much he’ll be able to eat once this is all over.

“Oh, i see you’ve started this without me.” His father comments quietly as Chanyeol approaches him, and it’s a confusing statement to say the least. When he gets close enough, his father pulls Chanyeol by the wrist, settling him on his lap, back facing toward him.

“Oh my.” His fingers are so gentle, it makes the hair on the back of Chanyeol’s neck stand on end as they feel around his backside, “I know how you got all of these.”

“I’m aware.” Chanyeol resist the urge to bat his hands away.

“Such a bad boy, all I want is for you to do well.” His fingers skim across cigarette burns on Chanyeol’s right shoulder, “All I want is a well behaved son. Yet you never do as you’re told.” The teen can barely process the words before fire rips out across his back, his father carving deep scratches from his shoulder to his hip. Chanyeol yelps like a wounded animal, doubling over on himself, but a firm grip on his arm keeps him propped up, “All I want is for you to do well, all I want is for you to be good. But you make me angry.” A hand pressed into a bruise on Chanyeol’s left side, “You know why i hit you? So maybe you’d figure out not to be such a fuck up. For your benefit. Guess the message hasn’t gotten through to you.” 

Chanyeol is too caught up wiping his tears and trying to ignore the fire on his back to notice what his father does next. His cheek is up against the carpet now, and his father is making quick work of removing his pants and boxers too and it makes his head swim. 

Is he going to beat him or not?

The situation confuses him until Chanyeol hears the zipper of his father’s pants and he starts to thrash. More tears make their way down his face as he tries to crawl away from him, but he can’t get far before his father’s hand is fisted through his hair and pinning him right where he is. To keep Chanyeol there his father rests his whole body on Chanyeol’s and he know’s exactly what’s coming next. He’s seen it on television before when it happened to women, but never on men, so nothing could have prepared him for the unbearable pain that engulfed his body when his father forced himself inside. Every violent thrust just gave more pain and Chanyeol felt like he was ripping apart. The strength he had to get away was drained by the first thrust and now Chanyeol could do nothing but wait for it to be over, and his tears never stopped.

“I don’t like seeing you cry, Chanyeol. I really don’t,” His father didn’t pause his brutal thrusts as he spoke, “But it’s been so long since I’ve gotten to fuck someone, ever since that whore mother of yours left, now.. God I don’t think I can stop.” The thrusts speed up, and Chanyeol grips the carpet with all his might, trying to deal with it, “If only you offered yourself to me every now and then, maybe you would get beat so often.”

And that’s when it happens. Chanyeol feel his father’s cock twitch in his abused hole, pumping out spurts of cum into him. His spirit breaks, because this is the one act Chanyeol believed would never happen. No matter how depraved his father’s physical punishments may be, this si the one act he though his father would steer clear of.

Nothing made sense anymore. His father carried him tenderly up to his bedroom, tucked him in nicely, and even gave him a pet on the head. Just minutes ago he was forcing him to have sex, and now he was treating him like a real son? Chanyeol didn’t know what he wanted anymore.

For years he had wanted the beatings to stop, praying for them to. But now.. All he needed to do was sacrifice his dignity, his self respect, his humanity and offer his body to his father? Chanyeol wanted this for so long and now all he wished for was the belt, or the closet, or the familiar emptiness of his stomach.

~  
Chanyeol doesn’t want to leave his bed, his ass hurts with every small move of his legs that he doesn’t dare. It’s saturday, so Chanyeol has no excuse to get out of the house. So he’s stuck, in all of his pain and shame, wishing that he had crawled away, fought back- done something. But he didn’t and now Chanyeol is paying the price. A task as simple as reaching for his cellphone unleashed pain across his whole body, and every noise coming from downstairs made Chanyeol freeze- thinking another assault was coming his way.

 

Part of him wants to crawl out of his bed and leave, get away from the man that had done nothing but bring pain to him. But he doesn’t. The door is closed anyway, so Chanyeol takes his chances. Baekhyun always picks up. No matter what.

“What do you want?” Baekhyun sounds harsh, which is justified, but it still cuts at Chanyeol.

“I don’t have long to talk, and you can’t tell anyone.. But you need to help me out.” Chanyeol barely whispers, and he’s honestly not sure if he can be heard but he keeps his voice level where it’s at.  
“So you can cut me off the next time I mention your dad?” Baekhyun’s voice raises the slightest bit and it makes Chanyeol frantically turn down the volume, “So you can eat my food, sleep in my bed, and take what you want and never thank me?”

“Baekhyun listen to me.” Chanyeol is so caught up trying to contain the sound of his call he doesn’t hear the door creak open.

“You know how I feel about you using technology. It distracts you.” The color drains from Chanyeol’s face as he speaks, “Hand it over, Chanyeol.” And like some trained dog he does as he’s told.

Baekhyun can hear the exchange from the speaker, and it makes his heart drop into his stomach. Nothing can prepare him for Mr. Park to actually speak to him, “Baekhyun, I don’t know if you know, but technology isn’t allowed in our household. I’d like to thank you for helping me find out that Chanyeol had broken a rule. Who knows what might have happened if he was allowed to keep it for any longer.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Park. And.. can you tell Chanyeol that he can make up Mr. Jung’s work.” The line clicks off seconds later, and the phone disappears somewhere in his father’s pocket. 

“Look at me, Chanyeol.” His son is a small, trembling figure on his bed but Chanyeol is subconsciously forced to obey every order, “The phone, now you’re missing assignments. What on earth am I to do with you? We just went over this. Do you need a reminder?”

“No. I’ll remember the rule.” His father keeps getting closer to him until he’s sitting right next to Chanyeol. His father has his hands in his hair and he can’t do anything but screw his eyes shut, forcing the memories of yesterday out of his mind. He allows his father to touch him, mentally preparing himself for whatever may come next. 

The way his father touches him, it’s disgusting. It’s the way lovers touch each others, Chanyeol knows that it’s not supposed to be like it is- but he’s trapped. He’s trapped in this house, trapped by his father, to endure is touches that make his skin crawl.

“You can get your phone back,” His father leans close into the crook of his neck, pressing a kiss there, “Offer yourself to me. Do it, and you’ll be back on the phone with Baekhyun.” He keeps going. Chanyeol doesn’t have to do much before he laying on his back and his father does what he wants. When the pain washes over him once again, when his father is forcing himself inside and destroying all sense of dignity he had before then. Chanyeol lies there. He doesn’t fight it. Staring at the ceiling as his father takes advantage of him, all he can think about is whether or not this will earn him his phone back.

His father lasts longer than yesterday, and soon it annoys Chanyeol, having his father’s skin rub against his still disgusts him more than ever. And being chest to chest with him is the worst contact he’s shared with the man.

“It would’ve gone quicker if you didn’t lie there like a limp ragdoll,” His father grunts out, but he doesn’t stop what he’s doing, and Chanyeol can’t seem himself to care. Soon his thrusts become jagged and uneven, and soon the disgusting feeling of dampness and leaking fluid is back again from yesterday. His father cleans himself up on Chanyeol’s sheets, and when he’s all dressed and done, he throws Chanyeol’s phone at him. It hits him on the stomach, and as much as it hurts he doesn’t react. 

“Enjoy.” and finally, after god know how long, his father is finally gone. He’s back downstairs, and hopefully he’ll stay there.

Chanyeol's lockscreen is flooded with messages from Baekhyun, and they’re all variations of apologies to him.

8:15 pm  
Chanchan61: It’s fine  
Chanchan61: Can you come get me  
Byunbaek: Now?  
Chanchan61: No  
Chanchan61: My dad’s still awake  
Chanchan61: Midnight  
Byunbaek: I need to ask  
Byunbaek: I’ll have my dad drive

8:30 pm  
Byunbaek: Midnight it is


End file.
